


A Different Type of Hungry Wolf

by Tridraconeus



Category: Warframe
Genre: (the wolf's dick), Blowjobs, Choking, Crossfaction, Excessive Fluids, Explicit Consent, Fingering, Large Insertion, M/M, Manhandling, Size Difference, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridraconeus/pseuds/Tridraconeus
Summary: Even for purpose-built Grineer the Wolf was big, and as much as Nitzan considered himself a right and proper Tenno he had a certain weakness forbig. The Wolf's hands wrapped around the staff of his sledge that had to be at least an inch of tough ferrite thick as if it were little more than the handle of a dagger, and hefting it took just enough strength that it almost looked like he was showing off--look. Look at what I can do to you.





	A Different Type of Hungry Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> we all knew this was coming

Nitzan was not necessarily a fan of extermination missions. They were detestable, but necessary—he carved a  bloody path through the Grineer galleon, doubling back and slicing up anything that moved with Valkyr’s claws. He was only allowed to leave when there was nothing left living.

The blood evaporated off of Valkyr’s tough armor and he recalled the claws, glad enough that extraction was available.

Halfway to extraction, his comm. lit up. It was a message from someone who didn’t have an input yet, no profile, just a string of location data that was constantly shifting, twisting, flipping, and Nitzan recognized that whoever it was, was teleporting to him.

He did recognize the face on the broadcast. With the advent of Nightwave, new faces were popping up everywhere—none as elusive and feared as the Wolf of Saturn Six. He was a giant Grineer, nine feet tall at least and probably more, wielding a sledge nearly as large as him and wrapped up in armor that was nigh impenetrable. He appeared as if out of nowhere, crushed unlucky Tenno, and teleported away—whether to take revenge for his downed and captured compatriots, to court the attention of the Queens and win a pardon, or simply to create terror and chaos nobody could quite pin down.

And he was fast. Nitzan barely had time to roll under a swing of the sledge when the massive Grineer materialized in front of him. The Wolf howled, a sound that made the air shake, and charged forward. Nitzan lunged out of the way.

The reports said to run. No Tenno who had gone up against him alone had succeeded—crawling their Warframes back in some degree of mangled and crushed. Even those in a well-kitted squad struggled. It was as if he had something they didn’t, or knew something they didn’t, or knew what they were going to do before they did it—or perhaps he was simply an exceptionally skilled combatant with a very large sledge.

His howls raised in both volume and pitch as Nitzan led him around the galleon. Of all the games of cat-and-mouse he’d ever played, this one was frightening—not terrifying, because there was terror in being torn from his frame or felled by a shadowy facsimile of himself that was missing here—and not unpleasant, because there was pleasure in the glorious tandem of transference and the hawing scrape of his claws against the floor—but fright, itself, edged dangerously close to enjoyment as Nitzan found each new rhythm of the chase.

As quickly as he found them, the Wolf followed. He lured Nitzan into sliding under a vicious swing of the hammer, or diving between his legs to take off down the corridor, or soaring above him in an attempt to make him spin around and dizzy himself.

The Wolf could keep up. More than that, he was catching up and learning each new trick as Nitzan employed them. As garbled and feral as his noises were, Nitzan could see a very human cunning in his one uncovered eye. He had to leap out of the way to avoid being crushed, and the way that the sledge made indents in the wall said Valkyr would be ruined over again if it connected.

Even for purpose-built Grineer the Wolf was big, and as much as Nitzan considered himself a right and proper Tenno he had a certain weakness for _big_. The Wolf's hands wrapped around the staff of his sledge that had to be at least an inch of tough ferrite thick as if it were little more than the handle of a dagger, and hefting it took just enough strength that it almost looked like he was showing off-- _look. Look at what I can do to you._

Valkyr skipped neatly out of the way of a crushing blow, twisting easily into a backflip that set her on a crate. _That_ just barely brought them within eye level. The Wolf lifted the sledge back, preparing for a blow that would crush anything but the strongest alloys. Nitzan saw his chance, and transferred out. He slid past the Wolf, eliciting a surprised whuff, and fortunately he was leaned so heavily into the weight of the sledge that he couldn't twist on his heel and follow Nitzan's movements too quickly. It gave Nitzan an extra second to make some distance and take his attention off of Valkyr.

“Hey there, Wolf.” 

That managed to make him pause. He grunted, still holding the sledge in a ready position. Nitzan held both hands up. 

“I don't want to fight.”

As if to make his point, he stripped his amp off and tossed it away. It would return to him the next time he transferred out, but the Wolf didn't need to know that. 

The Wolf finally lowered the massive sledge, holding it loosely with two hands. He huffed and cocked his head as if to ask _then what do you want?_ Nitzan smiled, slow-spreading, taking a tiny step forward now that the possibility of being crushed wasn't so immediate. 

“You're impressive. I was thinking we could... do something else.” 

The Wolf huffed again but the hammer stayed lax and threatless. Nitzan allowed himself to be encouraged, and took another step closer. 

“I'd like to get acquainted with your other hammer.” 

The Wolf huffed. If Nitzan didn't know any better, he'd think that the Wolf was laughing at him. 

The Wolf set his sledge up against the wall. It looked small in his hands, and lonely against the alloy walls. Nitzan wasn't left thinking about the sledge for long, though-- in two long strides the Wolf effortlessly closed the distance between them and grabbed Nitzan around the chest. His palm was able to nearly span Nitzan's chest, and he was strong enough to heft him _up_ into the air and pin him to the wall. Nitzan grabbed his wrist, half for support and half because he was startled-- he bit his lip at the sudden movement, the impact of metal on his back, and any second expected to feel the crushing of bone and the dizziness of being recalled to his frame. 

Neither happened. The Wolf stared at him, Nitzan a little higher than eye level to allow the Wolf more leverage. Nitzan's grip tightened, but he didn't do anything else, and they stared at each other for what had to be half a minute. The urge to transfer back, or slip into the Void and dash out, or even kick the Wolf to try and make him ease up warred with the heavy, cloying fear-- driven in by the toughness of armor and the unrelenting pressure of the Wolf's hand-- that managed to arouse Nitzan as much as it frightened him. 

The Wolf grunted, finally. Huffed. Slid Nitzan fractionally down the wall until he was at eye level with the Wolf's breastplate. 

A test. Nitzan had passed. 

Of course he did. 

The Wolf unhooked the heavy ferrite from his hips and thighs with his free hand, fumbling only in that it was awkward to remove with one hand.

The plates fell to the floor with a _clang_. Despite himself, Nitzan squirmed. His feet were still a foot above the ground, the Wolf's grip implacable but not crushing-- Nitzan would be a fool to describe it as gentle, but it didn't hurt. Even the pressure of the Wolf's gloved, tough fingers sent a thrill of atavistic pleasure up Nitzan's spine. 

Now that he was focused on his task the Wolf was quieter. Through the respirator, his breaths came out as raspy snuffles. A firmer, harsher snort indicated that he'd finished freezing himself from his armor and underclothes. Nitzan peered around the tree-trunk arm pinning him to the wall to get a peek at the Wolf's crotch. If he were a more cautious person he would have been afraid. As Nitzan had hoped-- and perhaps should have expected-- the Wolf was perfectly proportional, and fortunately normal-looking. Nitzan caught sight of his cock, half-hard but rapidly growing interested with Nitzan's squirmings. 

Nitzan was fairly sure it would split him in half if he tried to take it, and he wasn't keen on stripping down midair, and his mouth suddenly watering gave him an infinitely better idea of what he could do with that monster.

“Put me down,“ Nitzan commanded, hoping it sounded a lot less breathy than it seemed. “I want to blow you.”

The Wolf grunted again. He slid Nitzan down the wall-- slowly, as if not to startle or hurt him-- until he had had to bend to set Nitzan on his feet. The moment of tenderness came to an end as quickly as it happened; the Wolf stepped forward, corralling Nitzan between the wall and the bulk of his body. The confidence of the gesture made Nitzan's knees weak. He caught the thick scent of blood and sweat, like a fighter-- like a victorious one. Nitzan whimpered a little bit with sudden, molten need. He grabbed the Wolf by the thighs and stepped back and up, gaining a few extra inches from the bump on the wall. In response, the Wolf seized a handful of his hair and tilted his head back, then nudged his legs apart with a foot. Nitzan's knees finally gave way and he dropped onto the Wolf's leg with a muffled _whuff_. 

He yelped, scrabbling for his hips. “Don't drop me!”

The Wolf repositioned his hands, moving Nitzan as easily as a doll. After a few seconds of squirming and mutual fumbling-- and no small amount of fondling, because the Wolf's cock was right _there_ and Nitzan wanted it-- Nitzan had gotten himself into a relatively serviceable position. It left a hand free for him to slip past his own underarmor, one free to rest on the Wolf's massive thigh. He was still pinned to the wall, belly heating at the proximity and restricted movement, but now he wouldn't pitch to the side and collapse if the Wolf moved wrong. 

“Alright,” Nitzan murmured, a final wriggle to steady himself. He looked up and met the Wolf's eye, a contact that burned. “Void, you're huge.” 

The Wolf rasped out an affirmative and his hips twitched forward. This close, Nitzan could smell him, thick and musky, and the smallest movement closer was almost overwhelming. He rocked his own hips against the Wolf's leg and finally shifted his hand from the Wolf's thigh to just between his legs, cupping his balls. Void. He really was big everywhere, and while Nitzan originally planned on perhaps taking things slow and savoring them, he could savor it just as well by going quickly. He dragged his tongue at the base, testing. That won a moan that Nitzan swore he could feel in his palm and thrumming against his legs-- down every inch of him that was in contact with the Wolf. He hummed in response, pressing his lips against the engorged root of the Wolf's cock. 

 _Void_ , but he sounded feral. Thusly encouraged Nitzan licked and kissed where he could, sucking at prominent veins and ridges, tracing them with his tongue. The Wolf's cock tasted mostly like salt, skin, the sharp tang of sweat. Nothing unpleasant. It actually tasted kind of good, Nitzan mused, though he imagined nearly anything would taste good when mixed with the transgressive pleasure of sucking the _Wolf's_ dick. 

He pulled back to take a breath. Spit hung from his bottom lip-- he wiped it away. He must have taken too long to breathe, because the Wolf put a hand behind his head and shoved his face into his crotch again. Once more swamped in the thick, musky scent of the Wolf's cock, the Wolf's hand holding him there, there wasn't much he could do to free himself-- he moaned, tentatively moving down from the root to the Wolf's swollen balls. The Wolf's hand gentled, but did not leave, evidently happy enough to let Nitzan do as he would. 

Nitzan spent some time licking and sucking the Wolf's balls. He could feel the massive, wet shaft of the Wolf's cock rubbing against his cheek and forehead as he rutted against Nitzan's face-- on impulse, he moved his hand from the Wolf's balls to his cock. It wasn't even enough to fit all the way around at the base, but the way the Wolf groaned when Nitzan started stroking he figured he didn't mind. 

Nitzan pulled back for breath again and the Wolf let him. He was moving his hips slowly into Nitzan's hand, movements that were less gentle than they were restrained. Nitzan rocked his own hips against the Wolf's leg, the slightest pressure sparking heat in his neglected groin. 

“I wanna fuck you, but you'd break me,” Nitzan mused. He licked a stripe up the Wolf's cock just in time to turn a grunted answer into a long, stuttering moan. Through the respirator it sounded like something being dragged over gravel, and under that a heated desire that Nitzan wanted more of. From his perch it was easy enough to guide the tip of the Wolf's cock to his lips. It had to be at least an inch across, maybe more. His precum tasted salty, if otherwise nondescript, but he definitely produced a fair bit of it. Nitzan made eye contact-- would he rather have the helmet off, or on? On, he decided-- and kissed the tip. The Wolf growled, hips twitching into the brush of skin. Nitzan hummed right at the space under the head, taking pleasure in the way his cock almost seemed to pulse. 

“Want you to fuck my face,” Nitzan continued. That won a low growl of approval, and the Wolf took a handful of his hair again, though this time the tug was far less insistent. As needful as they both were, the Wolf seemed to understand the sheer gulf in size and strength between them, and that his cock was huge, and Nitzan's throat was only so big. Nitzan took the Wolf's cock in both hands and lapped at the tip. More salty, watery precum slicked his lips and tongue, and by the time he fitted the Wolf's head into his mouth he had a rivulet of it running down his chin. 

The Wolf's grip tightened. A pang of apprehension gripped Nitzan's throat-- what if he wasn't careful?-- but he remembered the care with which he was held, and the expert regulation of the Wolf's massive strength, and allowed that to replace the apprehension with arousal. Slowly, the Wolf started pushing further into Nitzan's mouth. His jaw stretched around the thick intrusion and he had to curl his lips around his teeth. When he opened his eyes again, he'd barely taken a quarter of it. 

He put both hands on the Wolf's cock, lacing his fingers together and then being able to jack him off properly. The Wolf continued pushing in until his cock nudged the back of Nitzan's throat. Nitzan keened, resisting the urge to thrash and gag. If the Wolf pushed any faster, it would hurt-- if he couldn't stay still, it would hurt even worse. The sheer size of the beast meant it would be, at the very least, uncomfortable and challenging.

Nitzan did not consider himself one to back down from a challenge. He forcefully relaxed his throat, humming lowly around the Wolf's cock, and tugged him forward. The head popped into his throat, nearly making him gag, but he was prepared for it and managed to swallow against the urge. The Wolf groaned, thrusting further into Nitzan's throat, cutting off his air for a brief moment-- his cheeks heated even more at that. How easy was he to control? All the Wolf needed was a hand in his hair and his cock down his throat and Nitzan was whining for more. 

The Wolf pulled back to allow Nitzan to breathe, but only for a moment before he thrust back in, faster and harder than the last time though not by much. Nitzan managed a breath before it was cut off again. It seemed the Wolf was going to make use of the invitation to fuck his face. He gave Nitzan only the slightest of moments to breathe before thrusting back down his throat, holding there and letting Nitzan's throat convulse around him, a little deeper every time-- it stung, and Nitzan's jaw was getting sore with the effort of straining around the girth of his cock. Still, the treatment was arousing. Nitzan couldn't touch himself with both hands occupied but he ground against the Wolf's leg as well as possible. He was wet in his suit. He could feel it slicking his thighs and soaking through the tough polymers. It felt good, of course, he felt like he was burning up with need and arousal, but it wasn't _enough_. He needed to touch himself, or get fucked, or anything. 

The Wolf growled again, loudly. His grip tightened in Nitzan's hair and he pushed as far in as he could go, roughly halfway,  which still felt like feet upon feet of cock down Nitzan's throat, and made a long, low noise that Nitzan could only describe as a howl. Warmth spread from Nitzan's throat and he swallowed frantically, the Wolf's cock so far that he was unable to refuse the torrent of come. He went for a long time, too-- taken by surprise, Nitzan hadn't managed to take a breath, and black was edging in on his vision-- his hands around the Wolf's cock were faltering-- by the time the Wolf pulled from his aching mouth, and he was _still_ coming. It hit Nitzan across the face and splattered onto his chestpiece-- somewhat dumbstruck, Nitzan sat there with his mouth open, so a fair amount of come got in there too. As the flow slowed to a dribble, Nitzan gave his cock a few more encouraging pumps. When nothing more came out, he leaned to give the spent organ a kiss, still somewhat dazed and now even more aroused than before. 

The Wolf pet his hair as Nitzan lapped at his cock again, cleaning the mixed residue of saliva and come off of it. Nitzan finally, finally spared a hand for his own need, rubbing at himself through the fabric of his underclothes as he licked the Wolf's cock clean. 

When it was more uncomfortable than pleasurable the Wolf pushed his head back. Nitzan groaned and attended to himself, legs spreading further, back arching against the wall. He wanted to come so _badly_. He still tasted the Wolf on his tongue, probably would be tasting him until he returned to the Orbiter well-sated and only somewhat ashamed at fucking an enemy in the field. 

The Wolf grunted. He picked Nitzan up, this time with two hands around his waist, and carried him easily across the hall. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Nitzan asked, somewhat crossly for being disturbed from his own attempt at getting off. The Wolf grunted again and laid him down on a stack of crates. He scooted him back until Nitzan's legs just barely hung off, and pulled his pants down with a sure movement. The tepid coolness of the hallway hit the heat of Nitzan's crotch and he couldn't help but buck up, kicking his legs even tangled in cloth as they were. The Wolf made a sound Nitzan hadn't heard before-- a _huh, huh, huh_ \-- and he identified _that_ as a laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah. This is your fault.” 

Nitzan finally held still long enough for the Wolf to free him of his pants and underclothes. Now free to touch himself, he did, arching against the crate and going as far as to support his leg against the Wolf with a leg hooking at his shoulder. 

His front hole was so wet it was almost painful. He spread his legs as far as he could, rubbing at himself. The Wolf watched him with one massive hand rubbing at his thigh-- and then he stopped watching, gripping Nitzan's leg firmly and turning him halfway onto his side. Now, his leg against the Wolf forced him open, and it was an awkward position to touch himself in. He grumbled and reluctantly stopped, hands going instead to support himself. 

He was just about to complain when he felt a blunt, armored finger at his front hole. He glanced down to see the Wolf prodding at his hole with his middle finger. 

“That feels nice. You can do that,” Nitzan said. He leaned into the crate to take some stress off of his arm. It had the added bonus of tilting his hips, rubbing the Wolf's finger against his aching hole. It was a large finger-- Nitzan was aroused and wet enough that he felt the stretch, but not as pain. The friction against his walls felt wonderful. The Wolf fucked him patiently, starting first with the first knuckle, then gradually sinking in all the way, and then repeating almost painfully slowly. Nitzan was whimpering and wiggling after only a few torturous repetitions. 

“Fuck, please, faster.” He knocked his ankle against the Wolf's shoulder to emphasize just how _much_ he wanted it. It won him nothing except another laugh. Evidently, he just had to lay there and take it-- as much as he wanted to be fucked hard, and fast, and made to come much in the same manner, the fact that the Wolf wasn't swayed by his pleading and remained seemingly intent on tormenting him made his arousal twist and flare. 

The Wolf only sped when Nitzan gave up on squirming and twisting and laid still. His back arched into the feeling, the wonderful increase in friction and the unrelenting intrusion of the Wolf's finger, every exhale accompanied by a desperate moan.

“Wolf, please.” He moaned, cheek to the crate. The Wolf growled, plunging into him at a faster clip. It made Nitzan gasp. His hips twitched. “Oh, you like that?” The next thrust nearly knocked the air out of him. He keened, gasping, nearly insensate, but he knew what to say to get the reaction he wanted now-- “Wolf, come on, please, _Wolf_ , give me more, fuck me harder, I wanna come I'm so close.”

He was close, and he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. The Wolf's finger rubbed against all the right spots, heat and friction building in Nitzan's groin until the combined sensations were just too much, just perfectly enough to push him over the edge, hole spasming and molten pleasure coursing through his body. He rocked his hips down as well as he could, voice cracking and keening. He reached for the sides of the crate, feeling his entire body tense. 

“Wolf, _Wolf_ , _oh_!” 

The Wolf followed him as he tried to squirm away, pulling him back by the hips and fucking him until every last pleasurable convulsion had been wrung from him. Nitzan cried out, hips twitching weakly, and finally kicked the Wolf in the shoulder. 

He would feel bad about it, but the Wolf had to be nine feet tall at least and sturdier than a fair amount of metals. The Wolf released him but for a hand on his thigh. 

Nitzan sighed and relaxed into the crate. He turned properly into his side and the Wolf's hand migrated to his hip. 

“ _Void_.”

He was _tired_. He couldn't sleep here. He let himself rest in the afterglow for a few minutes, the Wolf seemingly satisfied to stand there with a warding hand on his hip, and then rolled onto his back and sat up. The Wolf didn't ask before lowering him to the ground, taking his pants from where they'd been discarded and returning them to him.

“Thanks.”

He was wet and sticky between the legs, and winced when he pulled the pants up. At least they'd be washed when he returned to the Orbiter.

While he dressed himself, the Wolf properly tucked himself away and replaced the armor plates. He didn't look any worse for the wear, the lucky bastard-- Nitzan was covered in come and his legs were still shaky. 

He clicked his tongue and transferred into Valkyr. At least then he would feel clean. 

The Wolf must have heard the scrape of metal against metal as Valkyr stepped, but he didn't even look. He retrieved his sledge from the wall and hefted it over his shoulder, walking away through the empty halls of the galleon. Nitzan wondered if he had to oppose the frames, if not the people in them-- if ignoring the transference spared them both a battle Nitzan wouldn't win. 

He figured that was mercy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed! also I am chronically incapable of being at least a little bit soft


End file.
